Steven Harper's Blog, page 8
November 30, 2024
Multi-Day Thanksgiving, With Power Outage
For the past couple years, we've been doing Thanksgiving on the Friday after. We have multiple people in the family who have to work Thanksgiving, you see, so Friday makes more sense. I've also discovered I like getting home from work on Wednesday and not having to dive into pre-Thanksgiving prep mode. I can use Thursday as a much more leisurely prep day. It's great!
My sister Bethany also flies in from Colorado on Thanksgiving Day itself. Why? Because the airports are empty. No lines, an entire row to yourself. It's the only way to fly, she says.
My mother and her husband live quite a ways away, and it's difficult for them to do the drive there and back in one day, so they came down on Thursday to spend the night as well. We had a houseful already!
For what was technically Thanksgiving dinner, I showcased my Detroit style pizza, and it was a definite hit. So were the margaritas!
We were just sitting down to eat when all the lights went out.
Yep, we'd lost power. I checked outside and saw that our neighborhood was dark, but the neighborhood across the road still had power. We guessed someone must've hit a utility pole or something. (Later we learned that was indeed what happened.)
I pulled out the candles, and we had dinner the old-fashioned way.
The next morning
Bethany and I finally went for a walk together so we could talk about all the things siblings can only talk about when no one else is around. (Don't tell Mom.) We do this every year, and always walk through the woods behind our neighborhood to a little cemetery back there. It was a chilly night, but more brisk than cold. It was a fine field trip. :)
As we were coming back, the streetlamp at the boundary of my neighborhood popped into life. The light spread quickly to the rest of the houses and we had power!
We spent the rest of the evening around the dining room table playing Hearts. It was a cozy family evening.
The next morning I made pancakes with apple compote and bacon, and after cleanup, got the main prep going so dinner would be ready by two. I'm a martinet about this kind of thing. When I say, "We eat at two," I mean it! Anyone who's late can join in when they get there. I have a schedule on my phone that reminds me when to do what. It's a great system!
And lo, all the people arrived and all the food was ready and we ate and talked and visited until late in the evening. It was a perfect Thanksgiving!
comments
My sister Bethany also flies in from Colorado on Thanksgiving Day itself. Why? Because the airports are empty. No lines, an entire row to yourself. It's the only way to fly, she says.
My mother and her husband live quite a ways away, and it's difficult for them to do the drive there and back in one day, so they came down on Thursday to spend the night as well. We had a houseful already!
For what was technically Thanksgiving dinner, I showcased my Detroit style pizza, and it was a definite hit. So were the margaritas!
We were just sitting down to eat when all the lights went out.
Yep, we'd lost power. I checked outside and saw that our neighborhood was dark, but the neighborhood across the road still had power. We guessed someone must've hit a utility pole or something. (Later we learned that was indeed what happened.)
I pulled out the candles, and we had dinner the old-fashioned way.
The next morning
Bethany and I finally went for a walk together so we could talk about all the things siblings can only talk about when no one else is around. (Don't tell Mom.) We do this every year, and always walk through the woods behind our neighborhood to a little cemetery back there. It was a chilly night, but more brisk than cold. It was a fine field trip. :)
As we were coming back, the streetlamp at the boundary of my neighborhood popped into life. The light spread quickly to the rest of the houses and we had power!
We spent the rest of the evening around the dining room table playing Hearts. It was a cozy family evening.
The next morning I made pancakes with apple compote and bacon, and after cleanup, got the main prep going so dinner would be ready by two. I'm a martinet about this kind of thing. When I say, "We eat at two," I mean it! Anyone who's late can join in when they get there. I have a schedule on my phone that reminds me when to do what. It's a great system!
And lo, all the people arrived and all the food was ready and we ate and talked and visited until late in the evening. It was a perfect Thanksgiving!
comments
November 21, 2024
Slang
Whenever I speak at conferences or writers workshops, I tell new writers to avoid dated slang. "Okay" and "cool" have been used for so long, people forget they're slang, so those are okay. But anything else? Not a great idea. You date the book, and there's a big chance that the slang will be outdated by the time the book comes out anyway. Also, if you make even a small mistake with the usage, your target audience will drop you. Teenagers are notoriously unforgiving of adults who use "their" slang. I don't use my students' slang in class ever. I'm well aware it doesn't make me the cool teacher. Teens see it as cringe-y and intrusive, even if adults use it right, which they almost never do.
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November 10, 2024
Non-Stroke
A Non-Stroke Last weekend was quite the adventure. Saturday evening, I was eating and had some trouble with food leaking from one part of my mouth. I had a canker sore, though, so I assumed that was the problem and didn't think anything more about it. By Sunday, however, the symptoms were growing. Parts of my cheek became numb. The lack of sensation crawled up my jawline to my ear and took the right side of my tongue. I couldn't smile with the right side of my mouth. Oh, shit. Stroke? I was trying not to freak out. Darwin agreed that I needed to go to the hospital. During the drive, I kept checking to see if the numbness was still there. It always was. The ER wasn't especially busy, even for a weekend evening. Once I described my symptoms, I was taken back to an exam room fairly quickly. An ER doctor checked for numbness other than on just my face by running his hands fast up and down my sides and limbs, which was a little startling. No numbness, though. He also tested for limb and hand weakness. None. He checked hand-eye coordination. ("Look at my eyes and touch my fingertip with yours. Again. Again.") No problems. The doctor ordered more tests. EKG. Scans. Imagings. Blood tests. For this, they said, the hospital had to admit me, which required some paperwork. At that point, it was closing in on one in the morning. Poor Darwin was exhausted—he was recovering from being ill himself—so I sent him home. "There's nothing you can do here. I'm not going home tonight. You and I both need to sleep." He agreed and left. I lied. I didn't sleep. I was too wired for it. I'd thought to grab my iPad on the way out the door, and the next day was a school day. No way I was going in, of course, so I used the pad to set up lessons for my students in Google Classroom. This ate up about an hour, and it was closing in on 2:30. It turned out there was quite a backup at the scanners and imagers that night, so it almost three before an orderly wheeled me down for a CT scan, and then more time passed before I could get into the MRI for two more scans. When I wasn't in a machine, I was in the ER bed. And it was uncomfortable. Hard mattress. No pillow. I was hooked to a blood pressure cuff that went off every fifteen minutes and a blood oxygen/pulse sensor that clung to my finger like an angry clam. I tried sleeping anyway and was just dozing off when three staffers zipped into my room to say they were moving me out of the ER and into some kind of holding room between ER and my "real" room. They gathered up my things and trundled me away, bed and all. I was hungry. About an hour after I came in, I asked for and got a sandwich, but more than four hours had passed by now, and I was headache-level hungry again. I asked for food, but the holding room nurse said I wasn't allowed to eat because the doctor hadn't given permission. They had to confirm what medications I was taking first. I said, "I can give you the list right now," but no—it had to be on their schedule, not mine. The holding room nurse came in with a set of EKG leads. Apparently someone had decided I needed to be on a heart monitor. Here I flatly refused. The last time I was in the hospital like this (kidney stones), they became alarmed when they gave me pain meds and my heart rate went below 50, even though I told them my resting heart rate is usually 55, so a rate of 49 isn't a problem. Even so, they insisted on putting me on a heart monitor, which is wildly uncomfortable and difficult to handle. Just getting up to use the bathroom becomes a nightmare of wires and tangles and trip hazards. So this time I flatly refused. "I won't wear one," I said, both gently and firmly. "I'm not here for heart problems and I have no history of them. You can tell the doctor that I'm recalcitrant, if you like. But if you try to put that on me, I'll take it right off again." The nurse clearly didn't like the idea, but she left it at that. You have to make a stand somewhere, I guess. But at least I had technology. Like most medical facilities, St. Joseph's has a patient portal with an app. It sends alerts, so I got test results at the same time the doctor did, and I can read medical-ese. My phone pinged like a spring peeper on my night stand. All blood tests: normal. Urine tests: normal. CT scan: no indication of stroke. MRI: no evidence of stroke. Relief. It was past four in the morning by now. I was wrung out and hungry and having a post-anxiety crash. Large chunks of my face and half my tongue were still numb. It wasn't a stroke, but I still didn't know what was wrong with me. The ER physician came in and told me what I already knew—no stroke. But I had to stay in the hospital until I could see the neurologist, which would happen at some point Monday. They moved me into a short-stay room, which was really a curtained alcove, and took me off the blood pressure cuff and blood sensor. I just sat on the side of the bed. I had nothing left. I was so exhausted and hungry, I couldn't think straight. I answered the nurse's questions with one-word responses and just sat staring at the floor. I did text Darwin to let him know it wasn't a stroke. If he was asleep, I didn't want to wake him with a phone call about something he could read about the instant he woke up later. But he texted back right away that he was happy for the good news. I stared at the floor, retreating into the interior fortress I've adopted for hospital stays. I think I was getting cold, but I didn't really notice. Darwin called and said he was coming to the hospital, so where was I? I gave him the information and texted him a list of stuff to bring, including sweats. And food. He arrived a few minutes later and we were very glad to see each other. I got out of the hospital gown and into clean sweats and socks and had a snack from the food Darwin brought and somehow didn't expire on the spot. A moment later, the nurse showed up with a food tray. Apparently they had gotten hold of my med list. I ate and felt rather better, though it was difficult to chew with my face partially paralyzed. A few hours later (it's always "a few hours later" in a hospital, innit?), I received a lunch tray and was just finishing when the parade of doctors finally began, starting with the PA, proceeding to the on-class physician, and ending with the neurologist. The final diagnosis? Bell's palsy. Probably. Maybe. The short version is that in a case of Bell's palsy, a virus (in my case, probably varicella) attacks certain facial nerves, causing inflammation and preventing them from conducting impulses properly, which results in inconvenient paralysis and numbness. The condition is almost always temporary, and it can be shooed along with anti-virals and steroids. The weird part is that I don't have =all= the standard symptoms. One universal symptom is an inability to raise both eyebrows. One side is always paralyzed. But not for me. I can raise both eyebrows. This puzzled the doctors, because in every other way, my symptoms present as Bell's. "Maybe the forehead symptom would show up later, if you went untreated," the neurologist said. "Other than that, I couldn't tell you what's happening." But the meds will be the same, regardless. The scrips were sent off and, after the usual long wait, I was discharged to home. I was glad I didn't need to work the next day—schools were closed for the election—because I had nothing. I could move and walk all right, but I was so tired that just walking from one end of the house to the other exhausted me. I've been on the meds for almost a week, and my symptoms have greatly improved. At the moment, I have only a little numbness. My smile is still noticeably crooked, but much less so than at first. My biggest problem right now is eating. I can't get through a meal without catching part of my lip and chewing it hard before I realize what's happening. It's frustrating and painful. But I seem to be on track to be past this soon.
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November 9, 2024
My Thoughts on the Matter
Okay, here are my thoughts and attitudes on The Matter, and it's all I'm going to say about it.The numbers are showing that about 50.1% of the electorate voted Republican nationwide. In Missouri, 12% of voters who voted Trump =also= voted for their state's doomed attempt at enshrining abortion rights. When voters are shown various governmental programs and proposals and asked which ones they like and support, a huge majority of them say they like those put forth by Kamala Harris--if they don't know the policies are hers. A tech company that manages warehouses has begun the paperwork to lay off between 50% and 75% of their work-force because they anticipate tariffs killing off most of their business. The warehouses are in redredred Oklahoma; the workers literally voted themselves out of their own jobs. A woman who conducts political focus groups asked voters if they thought Trump was an authoritarian. The overwhelmingly most common response was, "What's authoritarian mean?" The $3 billion Steve Madden shoe company announced yesterday that in response to the upcoming tariffs on Chinese imports, it would shift production NOT to the United States (as Trump promised companies would), but to Cambodia, Mexico, and Viet Nam. A Trump-appointed judge yesterday struck down a Biden-administration regulation that would allow an easier path to citizenship for immigrants who are married to US citizens. The biggest group of people affected will be Hispanics.In other words, the people who voted for Trump kept themselves deliberately ignorant. They deliberately believed what Trump said without verifying it elsewhere. Many took the attitude, "I got mine, so screw everyone else."And so I will watch as Trump-supporting immigrants are forcibly deported. I will watch as Trump-supporting workers are laid off. I will watch as Trump-supporting "temporarily inconvenienced millionaires" lose their Medicare. And I will watch as they flail in the shit pit they created, whining and wondering why their lives haven't gotten better when Trump PROMISED he would fix all their problems. I will mourn for the Kamala supporters who knew what was going on and will be hurt anyway. I will mourn that they had friends, family, and neighbors who voted against their own group's self-interest through deliberate ignorance. I will do my best to help the members of my own family who are caught up in this even though they voted for Harris.And that's all I will do.
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November 1, 2024
Dinah, Screen Warrior
So we have this cat. Her name is Dinah. She's a gray tabby. She adores Darwin. She likes me. She tolerates our other cat Dora.
And she has turned into a screen warrior.
A few weeks ago, Darwin and I were yanked awake one night with a screeching yowl. I dashed out to the dining room, where the noise was emanating, and found Dinah attacking the sliding glass door. She clawed at it and leaped at it, and, apparently forgetting about the glass, bounced off it. Then she did it again. It was like she had gone crazy. For a fleeting moment I wondered if she was attacking her reflection, but she'd never done that before.
I finally realized what was going on. Another cat was on our back deck. All black. It was sitting close to its side of the glass with its tail curled around its legs, taunting Dinah. Dinah was a madcat, spitting and yowling and screaming. I rapped on the glass, but the cat didn't move, so I yanked the door open. That made the cat run, but Dinah dove for it. She hit the screen door and swiped at it before I could shove her aside with my foot. I shut the glass door, shooed Dinah away from it, and let her calm down while I went back to bed.
Last night, we had the windows to the back yard open against the climate-changed warm night air, and again we got the screaming, yowling noises. I sighed and went out to deal with it.
This time, the black cat was sitting on the deck rail, which put it at window-sill level. Dinah was leaping up at the screen, spitting and screeching. I chased the damn cat away and shut the windows, but Dinah had torn out chunks of the screen. It'll have to be replaced.
Darwin was ticked off at Dinah until I pointed out that it's not her fault. From her perspective, the cat is a threatening invader and she has no choice but to retaliate. It's the fault of the other cat's owners for letting it go outside. (The cat isn't a stray--it's well-fed and its coat is sleek.) This is NOT a good area for cats to go outside. We have coyotes. We have a busy road. We have assholes who speed down said road because it's smooth and straight and they like having a place to floor it. All of it is a bad combo for cats. But whoever these people are, they let their cat outside.
And it turns Dinah into a screen warrior.
It's too cold now to have the windows open, so the worst that'll happen is that she might attack the door glass again, but in the spring, we'll have to remember to keep certain windows shut. After we get the screen repaired.
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And she has turned into a screen warrior.
A few weeks ago, Darwin and I were yanked awake one night with a screeching yowl. I dashed out to the dining room, where the noise was emanating, and found Dinah attacking the sliding glass door. She clawed at it and leaped at it, and, apparently forgetting about the glass, bounced off it. Then she did it again. It was like she had gone crazy. For a fleeting moment I wondered if she was attacking her reflection, but she'd never done that before.
I finally realized what was going on. Another cat was on our back deck. All black. It was sitting close to its side of the glass with its tail curled around its legs, taunting Dinah. Dinah was a madcat, spitting and yowling and screaming. I rapped on the glass, but the cat didn't move, so I yanked the door open. That made the cat run, but Dinah dove for it. She hit the screen door and swiped at it before I could shove her aside with my foot. I shut the glass door, shooed Dinah away from it, and let her calm down while I went back to bed.
Last night, we had the windows to the back yard open against the climate-changed warm night air, and again we got the screaming, yowling noises. I sighed and went out to deal with it.
This time, the black cat was sitting on the deck rail, which put it at window-sill level. Dinah was leaping up at the screen, spitting and screeching. I chased the damn cat away and shut the windows, but Dinah had torn out chunks of the screen. It'll have to be replaced.
Darwin was ticked off at Dinah until I pointed out that it's not her fault. From her perspective, the cat is a threatening invader and she has no choice but to retaliate. It's the fault of the other cat's owners for letting it go outside. (The cat isn't a stray--it's well-fed and its coat is sleek.) This is NOT a good area for cats to go outside. We have coyotes. We have a busy road. We have assholes who speed down said road because it's smooth and straight and they like having a place to floor it. All of it is a bad combo for cats. But whoever these people are, they let their cat outside.
And it turns Dinah into a screen warrior.
It's too cold now to have the windows open, so the worst that'll happen is that she might attack the door glass again, but in the spring, we'll have to remember to keep certain windows shut. After we get the screen repaired.
comments
October 31, 2024
Video Game Evolution: LGBT Style
By most definitions, I'm not a video game fanatic. I don't have shelves of games and ten different platforms. I play only on my PC, and I tend to play one or two games, and that's it. Right now, those two are Baldur's Gate and City of Heroes.
But even a dilettante like me has noticed the changes.
The first video game I remember playing that had an actual story to it was Adventure on the Atari platform. Remember that one? You were a little cube wandering through different screens, able to carry a single object--a yellow arrow that was supposed to be a sword, or a blocky key. You were bothered by a mischievous bat that would steal your object and menaced by 8-bit dragons that would swallow you and end the game, all during your attempt to return a blocky glowing chalice to a blocky gold castle. The game was a best-seller, and my brother and sister and I played it over and over.
Now the game seems silly and simplistic, like a Model T or a rotary phone.
Games continued to evolve, though. Graphics improved by leaps and bounds. Computers got faster and memory got bigger. And we finally got full-blown animated characters, 3D worlds, and rich storylines.
But when story-based fantasy games like Final Fantasy and Zelda and Dragon Age came out, they kept up strict guardrails on character creation. Very few choices about what your character could look like, and very binary gender choices. The males were all manly men, the women were all womanly women. The games also included romantic subplots in the stories. Your avatar could romance certain characters in the game--or not. Your choice. These romantic choices were all strictly heterosexual. Absolutely no hint of male/male or female/female romance. Building-sized dragons, sorcerers with world-changing spell, and minotaurs charging into battle? No problem. A man kissing a man? That's too ridiculous to consider.
Also, the major mainstream games had no adult content. With the exception of the deliberately over-the-top Grand Theft Auto games, every story was, at most, PG-13. Characters could kiss. Sexual activity took place off-screen and wasn't discussed. No nudity.
"Well, yeah," said the big video game companies. "Kids and teenagers are the majority of our market, and we don't want to piss off their parents. And those right wingers boycott you and Wal-Mart won't carry games with adult content anyway. Besides, adults will still play teen-oriented games, so why should we include content for adults at all?"
It was really Walmart, though. WalMart dictated content for everything. Publishers of books, magazines, and video games NEEDED WalMart to carry their stuff, because everyone shopped there. You cut your own throat by risking WalMart's wrath. Book covers and blurbs were designed with WalMart sensibilities in mind. Video games wrote for children and teens. If you broke the rules, WalMart wouldn't carry your stuff, and you were relegated to niche markets in small gaming stores.
But games like The Sims started sneaking in LGBT content. Just hints of it. Players scratched their heads. "Is that character ... gay? Huh." The internet remained uncertain, but the game sold well.
Then, some ten years ago, one of the Dragon Age games allowed a male avatar the chance to romance two male characters. One of these characters was a flaming queen, and the other was a huge, hot-tempered minotaur, done up for comedy relief. But they were there.
Parts of the internet lots its collective shit, of course. The trolls howled. Parents snatched up their children and ran to church. Wal-Mart refused to carry the game.
And it didn't hurt sales one bit.
See, society had changed. Same-sex marriage was legal. We were starting to see gay and lesbian kisses (well, lesbian, anyway) on TV. LGBT storylines were becoming cool.
And something else had happened. BioWare (maker of Dragon Age) released the game both as a disc and as a download, meaning you didn't have to go to the store for it. And anyway, if you still wanted the disc, Amazon would ship it to you overnight. Who needed WalMart? Fuck you, Sam!
I also think the game creators realized that they had been trapping themselves in hetero-centrist thinking. It simply hadn't occured to them to allow a male avatar to romance a male character or a female a female. But finally someone said, "And why not? The non-player-character's dialogue would be exactly the same, whether the avatar is male or female. It's actually EASIER if we write the game to be gender blind. Besides, we have same-sex marriage in the real world. Why shouldn't we have it in our fictional world?" And so it happened.
Sexual content and nudity also crept in. Holy crap! Adults like adult content in their video games! Who knew? And who has more money to spend on video games, adults or teenagers?
Yeah.
Along came Baldur's Gate. Character design that lets you play any type of body. You can be cis-gender, transgender, non-binary, or anything in between. You can even customize the character's genitals. (!) Turned out the option of playing a female-presenting character who also has a penis became an astoundingly popular choice. Your avatar can romance any character, regardless of gender. And very explicit sexual content.
The game broke sales records all over the world and won countless awards.
Oh yeah--WalMart carries it. Guess their principals don't stand up to the chance at profit.
Now BioWare has released the newest Dragon Age game. It also allows highly-customizable characters and sports gender-blind romances.
It's freaking awesome. I would have committed cheerful murder for even a speck of gay content in a video game when I was growing up and when I was a young adult. The chance to play Someone Like Me? Wow.
It does highlight how bad things used to be for LGBTQ people, of when we were invisible even to entertainment. But the days of retailers dictating content are gone. WalMart doesn't have the near-monopoly it used to. We've become visible.
Now? Let me put it this way. When I mentioned the LGBT content of Baldur's Gate to the students in the Gay/Straight Alliance at Nameless High School, none of them had heard of it.
Let that sink in. This level of LGBT content has become so normal that it can be overlooked! A long, long way from the firestorms a hint of gay content once created.
These days I only read books with gay protagonists. I'm catching up after decades of being forced to read about straight people. And now I can play gay men all I like in video games, too. I've played Baldur's Gate several times through with different avatars, and I've never once romanced a female character, not even to see what happens. After decades of being forced to have straight romance or nothing, I can have all the gay content I want. It's fan-fucking-tastic.
As I write this, my computer is downloading Dragon Age: The Veilguard. I'm going to build a male who's good-looking by my standards and pay attention to romantic overtures only from male characters. Because I can.
And I'll slay some dragons, too.
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But even a dilettante like me has noticed the changes.
The first video game I remember playing that had an actual story to it was Adventure on the Atari platform. Remember that one? You were a little cube wandering through different screens, able to carry a single object--a yellow arrow that was supposed to be a sword, or a blocky key. You were bothered by a mischievous bat that would steal your object and menaced by 8-bit dragons that would swallow you and end the game, all during your attempt to return a blocky glowing chalice to a blocky gold castle. The game was a best-seller, and my brother and sister and I played it over and over.
Now the game seems silly and simplistic, like a Model T or a rotary phone.
Games continued to evolve, though. Graphics improved by leaps and bounds. Computers got faster and memory got bigger. And we finally got full-blown animated characters, 3D worlds, and rich storylines.
But when story-based fantasy games like Final Fantasy and Zelda and Dragon Age came out, they kept up strict guardrails on character creation. Very few choices about what your character could look like, and very binary gender choices. The males were all manly men, the women were all womanly women. The games also included romantic subplots in the stories. Your avatar could romance certain characters in the game--or not. Your choice. These romantic choices were all strictly heterosexual. Absolutely no hint of male/male or female/female romance. Building-sized dragons, sorcerers with world-changing spell, and minotaurs charging into battle? No problem. A man kissing a man? That's too ridiculous to consider.
Also, the major mainstream games had no adult content. With the exception of the deliberately over-the-top Grand Theft Auto games, every story was, at most, PG-13. Characters could kiss. Sexual activity took place off-screen and wasn't discussed. No nudity.
"Well, yeah," said the big video game companies. "Kids and teenagers are the majority of our market, and we don't want to piss off their parents. And those right wingers boycott you and Wal-Mart won't carry games with adult content anyway. Besides, adults will still play teen-oriented games, so why should we include content for adults at all?"
It was really Walmart, though. WalMart dictated content for everything. Publishers of books, magazines, and video games NEEDED WalMart to carry their stuff, because everyone shopped there. You cut your own throat by risking WalMart's wrath. Book covers and blurbs were designed with WalMart sensibilities in mind. Video games wrote for children and teens. If you broke the rules, WalMart wouldn't carry your stuff, and you were relegated to niche markets in small gaming stores.
But games like The Sims started sneaking in LGBT content. Just hints of it. Players scratched their heads. "Is that character ... gay? Huh." The internet remained uncertain, but the game sold well.
Then, some ten years ago, one of the Dragon Age games allowed a male avatar the chance to romance two male characters. One of these characters was a flaming queen, and the other was a huge, hot-tempered minotaur, done up for comedy relief. But they were there.
Parts of the internet lots its collective shit, of course. The trolls howled. Parents snatched up their children and ran to church. Wal-Mart refused to carry the game.
And it didn't hurt sales one bit.
See, society had changed. Same-sex marriage was legal. We were starting to see gay and lesbian kisses (well, lesbian, anyway) on TV. LGBT storylines were becoming cool.
And something else had happened. BioWare (maker of Dragon Age) released the game both as a disc and as a download, meaning you didn't have to go to the store for it. And anyway, if you still wanted the disc, Amazon would ship it to you overnight. Who needed WalMart? Fuck you, Sam!
I also think the game creators realized that they had been trapping themselves in hetero-centrist thinking. It simply hadn't occured to them to allow a male avatar to romance a male character or a female a female. But finally someone said, "And why not? The non-player-character's dialogue would be exactly the same, whether the avatar is male or female. It's actually EASIER if we write the game to be gender blind. Besides, we have same-sex marriage in the real world. Why shouldn't we have it in our fictional world?" And so it happened.
Sexual content and nudity also crept in. Holy crap! Adults like adult content in their video games! Who knew? And who has more money to spend on video games, adults or teenagers?
Yeah.
Along came Baldur's Gate. Character design that lets you play any type of body. You can be cis-gender, transgender, non-binary, or anything in between. You can even customize the character's genitals. (!) Turned out the option of playing a female-presenting character who also has a penis became an astoundingly popular choice. Your avatar can romance any character, regardless of gender. And very explicit sexual content.
The game broke sales records all over the world and won countless awards.
Oh yeah--WalMart carries it. Guess their principals don't stand up to the chance at profit.
Now BioWare has released the newest Dragon Age game. It also allows highly-customizable characters and sports gender-blind romances.
It's freaking awesome. I would have committed cheerful murder for even a speck of gay content in a video game when I was growing up and when I was a young adult. The chance to play Someone Like Me? Wow.
It does highlight how bad things used to be for LGBTQ people, of when we were invisible even to entertainment. But the days of retailers dictating content are gone. WalMart doesn't have the near-monopoly it used to. We've become visible.
Now? Let me put it this way. When I mentioned the LGBT content of Baldur's Gate to the students in the Gay/Straight Alliance at Nameless High School, none of them had heard of it.
Let that sink in. This level of LGBT content has become so normal that it can be overlooked! A long, long way from the firestorms a hint of gay content once created.
These days I only read books with gay protagonists. I'm catching up after decades of being forced to read about straight people. And now I can play gay men all I like in video games, too. I've played Baldur's Gate several times through with different avatars, and I've never once romanced a female character, not even to see what happens. After decades of being forced to have straight romance or nothing, I can have all the gay content I want. It's fan-fucking-tastic.
As I write this, my computer is downloading Dragon Age: The Veilguard. I'm going to build a male who's good-looking by my standards and pay attention to romantic overtures only from male characters. Because I can.
And I'll slay some dragons, too.
comments
October 26, 2024
WaPo Poo
I cancelled my subscription to the New York Times years ago because I couldn't stand the constant teacher-bashing and teacher union-bashing.* I switched to the Washington Post.
Now what?
*And anyway, the NYT's paywall is childishly easy to defeat for the rare occasions I want to read something there.
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Now what?
*And anyway, the NYT's paywall is childishly easy to defeat for the rare occasions I want to read something there.
comments
October 13, 2024
The Saga of the Breadmaker
I know a lot of people buy a breadmaker saying, "I can make delicious, fresh bread anytime I want!" They make a loaf or two, and then the machine vanishes into the dark depths of the cupboard or is banished to the basement, never to be seen again.
Mine isn't one of those.
I got a breadmaker back when they first came out, and I used it semi-regularly, usually a couple-three times a month. It was a supplement, though, and not a regular part of the kitchen routine. We still bought store bread. But I loved setting it to bake bread overnight and having hot, fresh bread at breakfast.
Years later, when I got divorced and it was me and three boys (two of them teenagers) and we didn't have any money, I was looking at every way to cut household costs. I realized we were going through three loaves of bread a week at $2 a loaf. That was $25 a month, just for bread.
I did more math. Flour, salt, yeast, and a little oil for a loaf of bread came to about 25 cents. (!) So I could go from $6 a week to 75 cents, or from $25 a month to $3 a month. The breadmaker itself cost $50, so it would pay for itself in less than three months.
The breadmaker became a permanent resident on the counter. I became adept at quickly throwing the ingredients in and letting it crank through yet another loaf every other day.
Years passed, and the financial problems eased. But I still used the breadmaker. Not only is it cheaper, but the bread is also better in all ways.
Eventually the bread pan started to fall apart. The gasket sealing the bottom went bad, and it leaked. Fortunately, I was able to order a replacement part on-line, and life continued as before.
More years passed peacefully, as far as the breadmaker was concerned. Then a few weeks ago, things started to go south. The second bread pan was going bad. The breadmaker was making an alarming GRONK GRONK GRONK noise when it kneaded the dough. After 15 years of labor, it was time to retire.
I wasn't going to give up a breadmaker, though! I started shopping for one and found that they haven't changed much in the last 15 years, except in price. The model I had bought for $50 back then went for $100 now! Goodness.
More shopping ensued, and I found a different, cheaper brand of maker that looked promising. For one thing, it had two paddles in the bottom, which would make for better kneading, and it had more settings for different styles of bread. And the shipping information said it would arrive in three days. Well, good!
I ordered it. A bit later, I got an email that proudly announced my breadmaker would be on its way and arrive in a couple weeks.
Wait--what?
I double-checked. The original listing still had the breadmaker arriving in three days, but apparently that was a lie. When you buy it, suddenly it's two weeks. I suspect it had to be shipped from China or India or something, but they didn't want to say this, so they lied.
I tried to cancel the order and was informed it was "too late, as the product has already shipped," even though the web site said the order hadn't been filled yet, let alone shipped. I complained higher up the food chain and was finally told the order would be canceled and my money would be refunded. And lo, my money was returned.
Meanwhile, I ordered a similar breadmaker from a different company. Paid a smidge more, but it would arrive at the agreed-upon time (three days).
Also meanwhile, I got an email alert that my original breadmaker had shipped and it would arrive Real Soon Now. Huh. Okay.
The second new breadmaker arrived and it's a delight! I love the dual paddles. It also solved one of the perennial breadmaker problems--the stuck paddle. When you shake a loaf from the pan, often the kneading paddle comes with because it's buried inside the bread. You're stuck with two alternatives. You can pluck it out of the hot bread, or you can wait for the bread to cool and remove the paddle then. The first way leaves the loaf relatively undamaged but singes your fingers something awful. The second way saves your fingers, but the bread adheres to the paddle as it cools and pulling it out brings a big chunk of bread with it. I usually ran cold water from the faucet, pulled out the hot paddle, and immediately went for the cold water.
Anyway, this breadmaker provided a little wire hook that slips into the paddle and flicks it out of the bread in a trice. It's a no-contact solution to singed fingers and damaged bread. I love it!
I've also started baking bread with whole wheat flour. It's more effort--whole wheat bread needs more ingredients if you want something chewable--but it's healthier, and Darwin can eat it. I also know for sure it's whole wheat. A LOT of store-bought "whole wheat bread" ... isn't. The definition of "whole wheat" leaves a lot of wiggle room. But mine doesn't, thank you. The dough is HEAVY, though. My old breadmaker was too old to handle it, but this new one cranks right through it and produces lovely loaves of honey-and-molasses wheat goodness. Very satisfied.
And then the first breadmaker I ordered arrived. It was on my porch one day when I got home from work. Um...
I use my breadmaker way more than most people, but not enough to need two of them! I double-checked my debit account. Money is still there. And not a peep from the company about returning it. So I got a free breadmaker. It's still sealed in the original shipping box, waiting for me to figure out what to do with it.
Maybe I'll sell it on eBay. Or donate it somewhere.
Ideas?
Meanwhile, as I write this, the house smells of baking bread.
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Mine isn't one of those.
I got a breadmaker back when they first came out, and I used it semi-regularly, usually a couple-three times a month. It was a supplement, though, and not a regular part of the kitchen routine. We still bought store bread. But I loved setting it to bake bread overnight and having hot, fresh bread at breakfast.
Years later, when I got divorced and it was me and three boys (two of them teenagers) and we didn't have any money, I was looking at every way to cut household costs. I realized we were going through three loaves of bread a week at $2 a loaf. That was $25 a month, just for bread.
I did more math. Flour, salt, yeast, and a little oil for a loaf of bread came to about 25 cents. (!) So I could go from $6 a week to 75 cents, or from $25 a month to $3 a month. The breadmaker itself cost $50, so it would pay for itself in less than three months.
The breadmaker became a permanent resident on the counter. I became adept at quickly throwing the ingredients in and letting it crank through yet another loaf every other day.
Years passed, and the financial problems eased. But I still used the breadmaker. Not only is it cheaper, but the bread is also better in all ways.
Eventually the bread pan started to fall apart. The gasket sealing the bottom went bad, and it leaked. Fortunately, I was able to order a replacement part on-line, and life continued as before.
More years passed peacefully, as far as the breadmaker was concerned. Then a few weeks ago, things started to go south. The second bread pan was going bad. The breadmaker was making an alarming GRONK GRONK GRONK noise when it kneaded the dough. After 15 years of labor, it was time to retire.
I wasn't going to give up a breadmaker, though! I started shopping for one and found that they haven't changed much in the last 15 years, except in price. The model I had bought for $50 back then went for $100 now! Goodness.
More shopping ensued, and I found a different, cheaper brand of maker that looked promising. For one thing, it had two paddles in the bottom, which would make for better kneading, and it had more settings for different styles of bread. And the shipping information said it would arrive in three days. Well, good!
I ordered it. A bit later, I got an email that proudly announced my breadmaker would be on its way and arrive in a couple weeks.
Wait--what?
I double-checked. The original listing still had the breadmaker arriving in three days, but apparently that was a lie. When you buy it, suddenly it's two weeks. I suspect it had to be shipped from China or India or something, but they didn't want to say this, so they lied.
I tried to cancel the order and was informed it was "too late, as the product has already shipped," even though the web site said the order hadn't been filled yet, let alone shipped. I complained higher up the food chain and was finally told the order would be canceled and my money would be refunded. And lo, my money was returned.
Meanwhile, I ordered a similar breadmaker from a different company. Paid a smidge more, but it would arrive at the agreed-upon time (three days).
Also meanwhile, I got an email alert that my original breadmaker had shipped and it would arrive Real Soon Now. Huh. Okay.
The second new breadmaker arrived and it's a delight! I love the dual paddles. It also solved one of the perennial breadmaker problems--the stuck paddle. When you shake a loaf from the pan, often the kneading paddle comes with because it's buried inside the bread. You're stuck with two alternatives. You can pluck it out of the hot bread, or you can wait for the bread to cool and remove the paddle then. The first way leaves the loaf relatively undamaged but singes your fingers something awful. The second way saves your fingers, but the bread adheres to the paddle as it cools and pulling it out brings a big chunk of bread with it. I usually ran cold water from the faucet, pulled out the hot paddle, and immediately went for the cold water.
Anyway, this breadmaker provided a little wire hook that slips into the paddle and flicks it out of the bread in a trice. It's a no-contact solution to singed fingers and damaged bread. I love it!
I've also started baking bread with whole wheat flour. It's more effort--whole wheat bread needs more ingredients if you want something chewable--but it's healthier, and Darwin can eat it. I also know for sure it's whole wheat. A LOT of store-bought "whole wheat bread" ... isn't. The definition of "whole wheat" leaves a lot of wiggle room. But mine doesn't, thank you. The dough is HEAVY, though. My old breadmaker was too old to handle it, but this new one cranks right through it and produces lovely loaves of honey-and-molasses wheat goodness. Very satisfied.
And then the first breadmaker I ordered arrived. It was on my porch one day when I got home from work. Um...
I use my breadmaker way more than most people, but not enough to need two of them! I double-checked my debit account. Money is still there. And not a peep from the company about returning it. So I got a free breadmaker. It's still sealed in the original shipping box, waiting for me to figure out what to do with it.
Maybe I'll sell it on eBay. Or donate it somewhere.
Ideas?
Meanwhile, as I write this, the house smells of baking bread.
comments
October 10, 2024
Weird Mealtimes
Around here, supper comes at odd times. I eat lunch before 11:00 AM because high schools start so ungodly early. I get home around 3:30 and, since it's been four hours since I last ate, I'm starving.
Darwin, meanwhile, often works from home and rarely eats lunch those days.
So when I get home, we'll have supper. At 4:00.
But on days when Darwin works at his office, he doesn't get home until well into the evening, like 8:00. On those days, I eat something when I get home and then we have a late, late supper, sometimes finishing at 9:00.
Our house has a weird mealtime schedule.
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Darwin, meanwhile, often works from home and rarely eats lunch those days.
So when I get home, we'll have supper. At 4:00.
But on days when Darwin works at his office, he doesn't get home until well into the evening, like 8:00. On those days, I eat something when I get home and then we have a late, late supper, sometimes finishing at 9:00.
Our house has a weird mealtime schedule.
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October 8, 2024
Amazing Find
An original copy of the US Constitution turned up in the attic of a plantation home in North Carolina:https://www.smithsonianmag.com/.../this-forgotten-copy.../What's interesting to me is that my novel TRASH COURSE (written under the pen name Penny Drake) revolves around exactly this kind of find!
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